


Alone time

by dreamsinparadise



Category: Uta no Prince-sama
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Love, after marriage, considered as drabble?, masaharu
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-28
Updated: 2018-03-28
Packaged: 2019-04-14 02:54:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14126559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamsinparadise/pseuds/dreamsinparadise
Summary: Masaharu fluff. Look I'm bad at summarising so I'll just say this is a short story about two newlyweds in love please enjoy :)





	Alone time

**Author's Note:**

> This is sudden, but I was inspired by myself to write masaharu content and my brain kept bugging me so I relented even though i originally didn't want to because my writing is crap. However, this time i did not screw up so this is a miracle!
> 
> This is fluff, btw. Very short but i hope its satisfying!

It was spring.

Fresh air tainted cool by the dying winter cold filtered the room as Haruka opened the floor-to-ceiling-windows, or simply put, french windows by the sunlit corner of their room. She could feel the light wind, a breeze ghosting over her skin, inches of heat creeping down to warm her cold fingers. It had just rained last night, and even though she had tried to huddle close to Masato as desperately as she could for body warmth the cold still lingered on uncaught areas that aren't fortunate enough to be covered by either blankets or Masato’s arm.

Padding closer to sunlight still barefooted, Haruka stretched her fingers onto the balcony, arms resting on the ornate railing. From above she can see the view of the garden below, as magnificent as its usual glory restored with the gift of spring. The empty branches are starting to grow leaves while new green shoots started to crawl upwards from the thin grass, still dampened by the morning dew, or was that the gardener's work? Distinctly, the clear sound of piano keys echoing passionately in the air, a melody she knew all too well from her own wedding.

_I swear._

Haruka grinned. She knows who exactly is her mysterious pianist, and where he’s at.

Eagerly, she dashed out of her room, not even bothering to close both door and windows. Light shone brightly on her eyes as she reached outdoors, causing her to squeeze her eyes shut a bit before they adjust. She kept walking into the garden, finally seeing a pavilion similar to the one back at Saotome academy and surely enough, she can hear her music much clearer than before accompanied with a baritone voice, not too deep, but deep enough for her to recognise his chocolate warm tone.

“Masato?” Haruka called out, eyes fixated on her husband’s posture on the leather piano seat, and trying hard to control her urge not to comment on the way his hair seemed to shimmer slightly with dewdrops under the shades. Must've got them while passing the vegetation on the way here.

“Ah, you're awake. Did I disturb you?” Masato smiled apologetically before pulling his seat backwards to face Haruka. “You could had slept more.”

  
“I didn't want to miss out your private performance.”

“You know you can always call me to play the piano whenever you want, my wife.” Masato playfully replied, and being took aback by the sudden way of addressing, Haruka blushed slightly, red cheeks open for him to see. “Masato!”

  
“Yes?” There was a boyish glint in his eyes, and Haruka pouted in return.

  
“I think you've learned from Ren.”

  
“Mhm mhm, as you say, Haruka.” Masato paused, and not missing a beat. “My love.”

  
“I wonder how far this can go” Haruka smirked. “My husband.”

  
“My angel.”

  
“My prince.”

  
“Darling.”

  
“Sweetheart.”

  
“Beloved.”

  
“My melon pan.”

  
Masato laughed while Haruka followed suit, taking a place on the piano seat beside Masato. “I did not expect that.”

  
“What did you expect?” Haruka asked in curiosity.

  
“Something on the verges of sunshine or stars.”

  
“That sounds more like what you would say though.” Haruka chirped, and Masato tousled her hair lightly in response, chuckling lightly. His hand is big and warm, and unsurprisingly soft, but Haruka knows and remembered the small, hard edges on the sides of his skin of his fingers that marked him as a hardworking idol who repeatedly used his hands. Hands that made music glow and voice that warms hearts.

  
“....I love it when you play the piano.” Haruka said softly, her fingers now threading in his, etching through every small crevice, tiny details of his hand and leaned herself on his shoulder. “You are beautiful when you play.”

  
Masato’s left hand was now on her waist. “I think I love it more when you are being yourself, and when we're alone, like this.” He kissed her forehead lightly, looking tenderly at the same spot for some time before pulling away. “I would not be exaggerating if I'd say I would never want to leave you anywhere, anytime. You are beautiful, Haruka. I love you so much, too much.” His hand now holding her waist tighter, he fought the desperate urge to hold her closer, more closer to him. He tried to fight back the furious waves of emotion, respect, love and adoration towards this woman who was his buoyance in the raging sea knowing that he will very well lose himself to the tide. Masato is, after all, a man controlled by his emotions if they surpassed logical thoughts.

  
Haruka did not know since when Masato had leaned inwards, his face nuzzling her cheek and his chest against her back. She simply enjoyed, and loved the way he felt close to her. As her fingers finally brushed on his ring finger adorning the ring which held their oaths to each other she resisted the urge to repeat their vows by replaying them in her head over and over again. _To be true to each other in good times and in bad, for better, for worse. For richer, for poorer. In sickness and in health. Till death do us part._

_And if there were another chance we would find either one of us in our next life to repeat everything again without regrets._

  
As if having the same thought, Masato smiled gently at Haruka, his finger finding her ring. “I remember our vows clearly whenever I see this... I love you, Haruka. I am so glad I'd married you. I'm so glad you are my wife. I'm so glad you are by my side and I would never want to let you go. I love you.”

Masato held her chin, and tilted it upwards to face his; his face drawing closer and closer and his eyes fluttering shut. Or that was her own eyes fading dark.

Finally, after hovering on anxiety and crashing hesitation, their lips melded with each other, his brushing over hers in an affectionate kiss as they embraced. Riptides of emotions had blown over the shores of rationalism but they didn't cared; time was there for them to express their love for each other without boundaries, without limitations. 

As their mouths parted and met again and again; they could only feel the fire of their feelings for each other crackling in the depths, burning, devouring them into passionate embers and sparks. Unconditionally accepting the best and the worst of each other was what echoed in their hearts repeatedly as their souls seemed to entwine.

Everything in the world has their unique, but definite ways. Like how cold, harsh winter would gradually turn to spring. Like how a melody would sound entirely different depending on the composer and the performer. Like the way an idol before the scenes would fall madly in love with a composer behind the acts; Masato and Haruka.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Hope you did enjoy!


End file.
